Weak
by 4luv4evr428
Summary: A continuation of The Blue Jay, Rick's personal life picks up where it had left off before his mother's death, with Ricky nearby. A special flashback scene in this chapter is dedicated to the 64th anniversary of the premier of I Love Lucy. Please follow, more chapters to come!
1. Chapter 1

I.

Rick knocked on the wood of the door frame which led into his father's den. "Dad, the only thing left to do is to go through the things up in the bedroom…"

They had left it for last. It was one thing to make decisions about which pieces of furniture to keep and which to give away. There wasn't too much use for much of the cookware and full place settings that were stored in the kitchen, either. Ricky was keeping only the comfortable chairs and desks which were housed in his den, a small sofa and the bed he had shared with Lucy, along with a couple of pots, frying pans and dinnerware. They would furnish the comfortable apartment he had rented for himself just a few blocks away from his son in New York.

It was something quite different to complete the task he'd been dreading: he still had to go through the closet in his bedroom and decide what to do with his wife's clothes, jewelry and other personal belongings. But he couldn't avoid it any longer. The family to whom he'd sold the house would be moving in only a few days later.

Ricky nodded, patting the back of his armchair.

Rick stood aside as his father walked past him out of the room and headed up the stairs. Ricky followed him quietly.

The large bed that had occupied the center of the room had already been removed, leaving only the small vanity and the small chair that sat empty in front of it. There were several empty boxes scattered around the floor, some marked for donation.

Rick cleared his throat as his father stood in the mostly bare room with his hands in his pockets, the soft curtains floating in the soft breeze that came through the window. "Do you think maybe you'll donate most of the stuff in the closet?"

Ricky turned to face his son and nodded quietly. "Yes, I think so." He looked toward the closet, where all of his wife's clothes still hung. He walked toward it and closed the door, his hand tracing the garment bag that hung on the hook. The zipper was broken and it was held in place with a string tied around the hanger. But it still offered some protection to the crisp white wedding gown inside it. "I wanna keep your mother's weddin' dress, though."

Rick walked up next to him and removed the garment from the hook, draping it reverently over his arm. "I'll bring it down the car so it doesn't get ruined." He pointed gently to a box that sat on top of the vanity. "What about the jewelry?"

Ricky sighed. There were pieces of gold and gemstones inside that box which were worth thousands of dollars. And although it was difficult for him to see all of his wife's clothing go out in boxes for strangers, it was almost impossible for him to do the same with her jewelry, most of which he'd gifted to her. And much of it symbolized some special occasion or event for them. He decided that, at least for now, the box and its contents would come to New York with him. He looked at his son, who waited expectantly for him to answer. He hoped that Rick would bring a daughter-in-law to his home one day and then maybe a granddaughter. Yes, he would keep the jewelry for them. "I'll take it with me, too."

II.

Rick walked into his apartment and ran a hand through his hair, tired from a full day of packing the house in Connecticut and moving his father into his new home in New York. The physical fatigue was less a bother to him than the emotional exhaustion. It hadn't occurred to him, really, that he would never again see his childhood home until he left his father and headed for home. The room that Ricky had occupied for over two months now sat empty and Rick was left only with the quiet of his thoughts. Living along again would take another adjustment.

He wandered into the kitchen and looked at the pad that hung beside the phone. He had the names and numbers of about six young women written there. They were all nice and he'd been out with a few of them, in some cases more than once. But there was only one that he felt like talking to now. He picked up the receiver and dialed the number, stretching the cord around the corner and sitting in a nearby chair as the line began to ring.

"Hello?" The feminine voice was warm and calming.

"Hey, it's me." Rick smiled, glad that she had answered.

"Hi! How are you doing?" The girl's smile was audible.

Rick shrugged as though she'd be able to see him. "I'm ok. My dad's in his place now, so I'm alone. It's a little easier to talk on the phone again."

"Did you finish everything you had to do in Connecticut?"

Rick twirled the phone cord around his finger. "Yes. We took everything that my dad decided to keep. Everything else got donated. He'll be happy in his new place. I'll miss the house, but I think it was a good idea for him to sell it."

"How are things at the club?"

Rick sighed. "Fine! I have to get back into my normal routine, but we're as popular as ever." He smiled. "How about you? How are you?"

"I'm good. There's not much excitement in the life of a legal secretary! But I went to the beach with a friend of mine the other day. That was fun, I wish you could've come."

Rick's smile broadened. "I've missed you. What are you doing tonight?"

The girl's voice was coy. "Don't you have to work?"

"No, I didn't know how long I'd be in Connecticut, so I took the night off." He narrowed his eyes. "I probably could change my mind and go to the club, though…"

The girl giggled. "Don't do that, I think I can pencil you in."

Rick laughed. "Well, thanks. Can you be ready in two hours?" He would've made it sooner because he was excited to see her. But he had a date with a long, hot shower first.

"I'll be waiting."

III.

"Going out?" Samantha stopped in the hallway outside her roommate Anna's bedroom and sipped on a can of Tab.

Anna was standing in front of a long mirror that hung on the wall, smoothing a soft blush red color to her lips. Her long golden brown hair was held away from her face by a clip and her dark lashes curled over her almond-shaped emerald eyes. Her creamy alabaster skin disappeared into the gentle round neckline of her blouse and reappeared along the smooth thighs that emerged from her miniskirt, her long legs stopping at a pair of heeled mary jane shoes.

She puckered her lips before turning to look at Samantha. "Rick called, we're going out."

Samantha raised her eyebrows and leaned against the door frame, taking another ship of her drink and brushing aside one of her tight bronze curls. "You haven't seen him for a while, I thought you called it off. I didn't want to say anything, but I thought you were pretty stupid," she laughed.

Anna shook her head, dropping her lipstick into a small purse. "We didn't call anything off. His mother passed away and his father was living with him for a while, so I gave him some time with that. We've been talking on the phone. I told you, we just wanted to take it slow, we aren't serious yet."

Samantha looked her roommate over; she'd definitely made sure she looked fetching for someone she wasn't serious about. "Mmhmm. Ok!" She turned when she heard the door buzzer. "I think that's Mr. Taking It Slow now…"

Anna walked past Samantha to the front door, giving her a whack with her purse as she passed. Samantha disappeared into her own room as Anna opened the door.

She smiled when she saw the dark, handsome young man on the other side of it, dressed in a bright white shirt and dark slacks. His raven hair was brushed back in loose waves, one of them softly resting alongside his forehead. He smiled when he saw her, his round chocolate colored eyes skimming over her. "Hi there," she said with a small laugh.

Rick's smile widened; he was so happy to see her that it surprised him. "Hi! I thought we'd go to that little Mexican place up the block. Whaddya think?"

Anna nodded eagerly; she hadn't much cared where he took her, she was just happy he'd asked her to go out at all. "Sure!"

She closed the door behind her and walked alongside him down the hallway and out to the street. The foot traffic was heavy with people enjoying the late summer night as they walked a short way to a small but popular Mexican restaurant.

They were seated at a small table among the other diners. In one corner of the room, an older man sat on a stool playing the guitar quietly.

Finally in a place where they felt they could have a private conversation, Rick looked at his date across the table over the light of a small candle between them. "I'm sorry we haven't seen much of each other the last couple of months."

Anna shook her head. "I understand. I would've given you all the time you needed. How are you, really?"

Rick didn't avert his gaze from her as he spoke. "Better. It was a little rough at the beginning, but things are better."

She gazed back at him. "And your father? How is he?"

He smiled gently. "He's good. I was worried about him after…you know, I told you about it. But he's really getting better and he's at the club a lot, too. It was a big step for him to move to his own place." He looked at his hands before looking back up at her. "I thought about introducing you to him, but…I decided that before I do, I should, you know, talk to you about…how you felt. About that, I mean."

Anna looked down at the candle between them and rested her fingers on the glass cup that enclosed it. "I guess that depends on you, Rick. Are you asking me to pick up where we left off?"

Rick looked at her hands as she tapped the glass gently. He thought back to the way they had left their relationship when he called her the day after his mother's sudden death. In hindsight, he regretted what he'd said to her then: that he needed time to figure out how he felt and to deal with his grief and to deal with his father. Before Lucy had passed, he was well on his way to being fully committed to Anna. He had decided to introduce her to his parents, something they knew he would only do if he was serious about the girl he was bringing to them. But then his mother died and it threw him into a whirlwind of shock and sadness, and he made the hasty decision to allow his relationship with Anna to cool off while he came to terms with all the unexpected changes in his life. He realized along the way that he wanted her to be a part of it after all, especially when he saw how she continued to support him and talk to him even after the way he had seemed to blow her off. He hoped now that he hadn't pushed her too far from himself. He looked into her eyes, hoping that she would see that he was sincere. "Anna, I'm sorry that I pushed you away when my mother died. I wasn't in a good frame of mind and I didn't think about what I was doing."

She tilted her head. "You kept calling, though, so I knew you weren't too sure about what you'd done…"

Rick nodded. "You kept taking my calls, so it gave me some hope that I could…undo it."

Anna folded her hands in front of her. "I kept taking your calls because I..I care about you a lot."

Their gaze was broken when a waitress brought them a basket of tortilla chips and two margaritas. As she walked away, they looked at the food and drinks in front of them, neither really in the mood to partake in any of it. At least, not until they had answered this question between them.

Rick looked back at her. "I care about you a lot, too. And I think maybe I feel more than that for you. I…made a big mistake and I want to make it up to you. If you'll have me."

Anna smiled. "I'll have you," she said softly.

The wide smile returned to Rick's face as he took her hand across the table.

IV.

Later that night, after Rick had walked Anna home, they lingered at the door to her apartment. She leaned against the door and smiled at him. "It was a nice evening, thank you."

Rick grinned. "Thank YOU."

She looked at him intently. "So what now?"

Rick took Anna's hand into his. "I have rehearsal in the afternoon and then I have a show at night, but why don't you come? Then we can have a late dinner after…"

Anna nodded. "Sure, that sounds nice."

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow, then."

She nodded again, more gently. "Yes." Her heart quickened when he placed a finger under her chin and raised her face to his. She closed her eyes slowly as his lips fell to hers in a long, warm kiss.

Rick wrapped an arm around her as their kiss deepened and her arms moved slowly around his neck. He hadn't kissed her in two months and it felt right in a way that he had never felt before.

When their kiss parted, their eyes remained fixed on each other for a few moments before they released their embrace.

"Good night," Anna finally whispered.

"Good night," Rick replied as he watched her enter her apartment.

When the door closed, he turned and headed back out to the street. Outside, he looked up at the smattering of stars that seemed to wink at him intermittently and he smiled.

V.

Ricky smirked as he watched his son stand in front of the orchestra with his arms folded.

Rick was trying to figure out why one particular measure of the song they were rehearsing seemed off. He had listened to each group of instruments play their part alone to see if he could hear the sour note, but individually, they sounded fine.

Ricky's experienced ear had identified the problem several minutes earlier, but he didn't want to speak up unless his son asked for his help; this was Rick's show now. Besides that, Ricky had always allowed Rick to struggle a bit to figure out the answer to a problem and he didn't see a need to change what worked.

Ricky sat back in his chair proudly when Rick asked the trumpets to play alone once more for him.

Rick climbed on stage to look at their sheet music. "Does that say F Sharp?"

One of the musicians shook his head. "No…"

Rick pulled a pencil from behind his ear and wrote the on the musician's music. "Everybody change that to an F Sharp. Now play it again."

Ricky silently nodded as the trumpets sounded the new note and Rick jumped off stage again, instructing them all to play the measure together again.

A satisfied smile crossed Rick's face, the music harmonizing much better this time. He looked back at his father, who nodded at him again approvingly.

Rick turned back to the orchestra. "Alright, guys, now that we figured that out, get outta here and get some dinner. Don't be late tonight!" He walked toward where his father sat as the musicians shuffled out. He pulled a chair away from the table and straddled it, facing Ricky. "How about you, are you hungry?"

Ricky looked at his watch. "What do you have in mind?"

Rick shrugged. "Whatever you want." He crossed his arms atop the back of the chair and rested his chin. "I wanna talk to you about something."

Ricky crossed his legs and looked at his son expectantly, the quiet ballroom affording him the ability to focus without distraction.

Rick looked thoughtfully back at his father, his face taking on an almost childlike quality as he asked for his advice. "How did you know you were in love with Mom?"

Ricky eyes widened subtly, the question catching him off guard. He softened, feeling that there must be some personal reason for Rick to pose that particular question. "Well," he reflected slowly, "I din't really have to think about it. I just knew. She was the first thin' I thought about every mornin' and the last thin' I thought about every night. I wanted to be with her all the time and when I wasn't, I missed her. She was my weakness and when I realized I couldn't live without her, I knew I had to marry her." His eyes drifted to the floor momentarily as he remembered.

Rick bit his lip. "Did you ever have to wonder if she loved you?"

Ricky thought a moment. "In the beginnin', maybe. At first, you're afraid to tell each other how you feel because maybe the other one doesn't feel the same. But when I told her how I felt, I found out that she wanted to tell me the same thin'. After that, you dun't wonder."

Rick smiled. "I thought so. Can I tell you why I ask?"

Ricky chuckled. "I'm dyin' to know!"

Rick laughed. His father rarely displayed such enthusiastic curiosity; the need for information on Rick's personal life had usually been expressed more vocally by his mother. "I've been dating a girl really for a while now, but we didn't see each other for a little while after Mom died and you were living with me…"

Ricky frowned. "I hope I din't have anythin' to do with that."

Rick shook his head vigorously. "No, Dad, no…I was just…I was messed up and I didn't know what I wanted. It didn't take too long to realize that what I want is her. But we're seeing each other again and I want you to meet her. I always told you and Mom that I preferred not to bring home a girl that I wasn't serious about but…Dad, I love her."

The smile returned to Ricky's face and he leaned forward, gently and playfully hitting his son on the side of the head. "If that's true, dun't let her get away again."

Rick laughed. "No, I don't plan on it."

Ricky gripped his son's shoulder. "I can't wait to meet her."

VI.

Ricky stood offstage later that night, proudly watching his son perform. He knew that the girl Rick had been seeing was somewhere in the audience, but he hadn't been introduced to her yet, so he occasionally looked out over the large crowd and tried to guess who she could be. It wasn't an easy task; Rick's performances were always full of young women for whom he was the main attraction.

After some time, however, Ricky started to notice that his son's eyes were focused on one particular table. Ricky squinted to follow his gaze and that's when he saw her, or at least, the person he was very convinced was her. He smiled and couldn't help drawing some comparison of this girl to Lucy; with her ivory complexion, bright eyes and petite figure, she was really quite striking. "You really were my weakness and our son inherited it," he whispered, speaking to his deceased wife, whom he knew was still alongside him.

 _Ricky eagerly made his way through the dance floor after he had taken his last bow. As always, Lucy was waiting for him, having watched the show from a table that had become known by the staff to be reserved especially for her. When he saw her sitting there, his smile grew. Her shimmering red hair was tied back and the soft curls brushed the nape of her neck. Her bright eyes were vibrant blue against her smooth white skin and blush cheeks._

 _He sat beside her. "Hi, beautiful."_

 _She smiled, her heart fluttering at the purr of his voice and the way he rested his hand on her knee. She placed her hand on top of his. "Do you have a kiss for me?"_

 _Ricky leaned forward. "Dun't I always?" His lips met with hers in a long, slow kiss and he felt the now familiar swell of overwhelming love that always came over him when she was near him._

 _When their lips parted, their eyes lingered for a moment before Ricky spoke again. "How was your day?"_

 _Lucy shrugged. "Another day in the life of a secretary," she giggled. "It pays my half the rent…"_

 _Ricky scowled. He could hardly wait to be able to tell her she could quit that job; no wife of his was going to work as some accountant's secretary. But she wasn't his wife yet. She wasn't even yet aware that he was carefully planning and saving his own money for when she would be. He was almost ready to ask her, but in the meantime, he had to exercise patience. "Someday you won't have to be a secretary…"_

 _Lucy raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Do you know something I don't?"_

 _He smirked. "I do. But right now, come dance with me."_

 _She nodded as he took her hand and led her toward the dance floor._

 _From his place on stage, the pianist, Marco, saw them begin to dance. He signaled to the rest of the orchestra to play a slower piece and he watched Ricky and Lucy move together._

 _Back on the dance floor, Ricky wrapped an arm around Lucy's waist, holding her tightly. They looked into each other's eyes._

" _Ricky?" Lucy's voice was soft as they swayed together in a sea of other dancers._

" _Yes?"_

" _Do you love me?"_

 _Ricky grinned, looking at her warmly. "You know I do. I tell you all the time, dun't I?"_

 _Lucy laughed softly. "Yes, but I love hearing it."_

 _He pulled her closer to him, his lips breathing gently near her ear as his cheek rested against hers. "I love you more than anythin' in the whole world. From now until the day I die, the only thin' anybody really needs to know about me is that I love Lucy…"_

Ricky was shaken from his recollection of the warm memory of his wife by the sound of loud applause from his son's audience. He watched as Rick took his bows and thanked the audience. As they stood to dance to his orchestra's music, he disappeared among them.

Ricky leaned against the wall off stage and waited. He was sure that his son would be back looking for him, no doubt with his mystery girl on his arm.

After a few moments, Ricky's predictions were confirmed. Rick emerged from the dancing crowd, heading backstage. He was joined at the hand by the girl Ricky had spotted in the audience earlier.

Rick spotted his father and led Anna toward where he stood. "Don't be nervous," he said quietly as they walked, referring to the anxious feelings she had admitted to having just a few moments earlier. "Don't think of him as any kind of famous person, he's just a normal guy and he's going to love you."

"Ok," Anna breathed. As they got closer to him, she smiled, betraying the tense nerves that she felt in her stomach. She had seen Ricky Ricardo on television and in pictures, so she already knew that his resemblance to Rick was striking. But they were even more alike in person, Ricky's age not withstanding. He was very handsome in a sharp, dark colored suit and his naturally black hair was streaked with gray throughout.

She began to feel more relaxed when a warm smile came over his face. She stood beside Rick as he began to introduce her.

"Dad, this is Anna." Rick put his arm around her waist as she extended her hand to Ricky.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Ricardo," she said quietly.

Ricky took her hand and held it in his. "I'm glad to meet you, Anna, but please, call me Ricky."

Anna smiled, breathing easier as her nervousness melted away. "Alright."

Rick smiled broadly, pulling Anna closer to him. "Didn't I tell you she was beautiful?"

She blushed as Ricky chuckled. "She certainly is."

Rick took her hand again. "Dad, we'll catch up with you later, we're gonna dance a while."

Ricky nodded. "Go on, have fun."

He watched Rick lead Anna away to the dance floor and he felt surprisingly sentimental. His little son, his shadow, was now a man and he was beginning to experience his life as Ricky had done before him. He watched Rick dance with the girl who he now suspected would soon be his daughter-in-law. Then perhaps, they would bring him grandchildren. Thank goodness for Rick, he thought, for giving him wonderful things to live for even in Lucy's absence.

Part of Ricky mourned anew that Lucy was not physically by his side to experience these events with him, but he took heart that she was still present and would still see.

As he watched Rick and Anna dance, he recognized the way in which he held her in his arms, the way her hand rested gently on the back of his neck and the way they looked at each other. "Oh, Lucy," he said aloud. "I miss you and yes, I still love you…"


	2. Chapter 2

I.

In the month since Rick and Anna had reignited their relationship, they spent much of their time together, whether she was at the club for his performances or whether they went out together during his time off.

Ricky had grown quite fond of her, himself. She was very warm and loyal, with a good sense of humor and a sharp wit. As he observed she and Rick together, it became more apparent that there was a great deal of love between them. So it came as no surprise to him when Rick again approached him for a private conversation one afternoon as rehearsal at the club was winding down.

As the musicians left with instruments in tow, preparing for a night off, Rick motioned to his father to follow him into his office. Ricky followed him into the room, frowning slightly when he noted his son's nervous appearance. He closed the door behind him as Rick sat in a chair and motioned for him to sit near him.

Ricky sat, trying to read Rick's face. "What's wrong, son?"

Rick shook his head. "Nothing's wrong. Why, do I look like something's wrong?"

Ricky chuckled. "You look a little jumpy."

Rick ran a hand through his hair. "Oh. Well, I guess maybe I am. But not for a bad reason…" He paused, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "You like Anna. I mean you two are getting on pretty well, right?"

Ricky nodded. "Yes, son, I like her very much."

Rick sat up, a touch of relief crossing his face. "She likes you, too, Dad. That…that makes me really glad. Because we, uh, well, we really do love each other. So I decided that I'm going to ask her to marry me."

Ricky smiled broadly and grabbed his son's hand. "Well, that's wonderful! I'm very happy, that's great!"

Rick exhaled, fully relieved that his father was happy about his plans. "Oh, good. I thought you might think it was too fast or something…"

Ricky laughed. "No, I dun't. I married your mother two months after we met and I would've done it sooner if I'd had a little more money to my name."

Rick grinned. "I'm going to ask her as soon as I have the ring, so I'm going to Tiffany and-"

"What? You're goin' where?" Ricky interrupted him.

Rick blinked. "To Tiffany. She really loves their jewelry, but she doesn't have anything, so I want to give her a Tiffany ring…"

Ricky stood up abruptly and hurriedly. Rick watched him, bewildered, until Ricky turned around to face him again. "When do you wanna ask her?"

Rick shrugged. "I don't know, I wanted the ring first…"

Ricky opened the door to the office. "Are you seein' her tonight?"

Rick nodded slowly. "Yeah…"

Ricky smiled as he headed out of the office. "You come see me before you see her!"

Rick sat back in his chair, puzzled. "Ok…"

II.

Ricky moved quickly to the front door of his apartment when he heard the buzzer, knowing that it must be Rick. It had been a very long time since he felt as excited as he did now.

When he opened the door, he smiled at the sight of his son, who looked dapper in black slacks, a dark colored shirt and perfectly shined shoes.

Rick returned his smile, still puzzled about his father's behavior. "Hi, Dad…"

Ricky turned and started walking for the living room, waving for Rick to follow him. "C'mon, c'mon."

Rick chuckled and closed the door behind him as he began to follow. "What's this all about?"

"Sit down," Ricky directed his son. He turned back to face him with a bright blue box in his hand. "I bought this when you were about three years old, I think. You helped me pick it out, I dunno if you remember."

Rick shook his head.

"Well," Ricky sat near his son, the box still in his hand. "I bought it for your mother as a gift for you to give to her. She loved it, she always wore it. And I got it from Tiffany, so this afternoon, I took it back there and they cleaned it and made sure the stones weren't loose and all that…" He held the box out for his son to take from him.

Rick took the box slowly, mouth agape as he remembered bits and pieces of what his father was going on about. He definitely knew the ring Ricky was talking about; Lucy did, indeed, wear it every chance she got. She had called it Little Ricky's ring.

He opened the box and sure enough, he was faced with the brilliant Tiffany ring: a band of pure platinum featuring a very large, fiery garnet, Rick's birthstone, surrounded by clear, sparkling diamonds.

Rick looked at the ring for a long while before looking back at his father. "Dad…"

Ricky placed a hand on Rick's arm, preempting any concerns his son might raise. "Your mother loved that ring so much, I thought about keepin' it on her hand, like we did with her weddin' ring. But I changed my mind. Now I know why I changed it. That ring is too beautiful to be in…any kind of box. It should be worn and enjoyed and your mother did that. She'd want her son's wife to do the same."

Rick didn't know what to say. He was both honored by the gift and its sentiment and hesitant to accept such an extravagance. "Are you sure?" He managed to whisper hoarsely. "How can I repay you for this?"

 _Little Ricky skipped ahead of his father, the small conga drum given to him by Uncle Alberto was strapped across his back. Ricky smiled. He wasn't sure how many more times his son would see Cuba in his life, but he hoped that the 5-year-old would retain some memories and knowledge about where part of him came from. And it was with no small amount of pride that the boy would perform beside him later that night, at what Ricky considered to be one of the most important performances of his career._

 _The little boy stopped when he realized he wasn't quite sure where they were walking to. He looked back for his father urgently and ran back to where he was, several steps behind. He clutched Ricky's hand. "Where're we going?"_

 _Ricky looked down at his son's inquisitive face. "We're goin' to your Uncle Pedro's house. You remember, you met him last night. He's my brother and he wants you to meet your cousins."_

 _Little Ricky looked ahead of them as they continued to walk. "Where does Uncle Pedro live?"_

 _Ricky looked out over the expansive tobacco fields to the side of the dirt road, the rows of plants stretching out to the edge of the horizon. They were much like the fields he worked in when he was not too much older than his son. He would never allow little Ricky to labor in that way. He shook off his thoughts when he realized that the boy was waiting for him to respond. "He lives at the end of this road, not much further."_

 _They continued walking until they arrived at a grouping of houses at the top of a hill, which was, indeed, at the end of the road they had followed. They were very nice homes, unlike the concrete, windowless house that they had lived in when they were children. Pedro had done fine for himself as the foreman of workers for those large tobacco fields. There were a few older children playing baseball in a clearing beside the houses. A dog lay sleepily in the afternoon sun and several chickens pecked and scratched the grounds._

 _Ricky laughed when his city child's eyes opened like saucers at the sight of them. He'd only seen chickens in pictures; they certainly weren't walking the streets of New York. Little Ricky released his father's hand and approached a group of them cautiously._

 _Ricky folded his arms and smiled, watching the boy. The chickens clucked softly, watching him with one eye as he approached. With a sudden burst of courage, little Ricky ran toward them. He laughed as they scattered away from him in a cloud of squawks and feathers._

 _He turned back to his father, his face alight with enthusiasm. "Can we bring a chicken home, Daddy?"_

 _Ricky shook his head, thoroughly amused. "No, amigo, I dun't think your Mommy wants to be cleanin' feathers out of your room."_

 _Hearing the commotion, Pedro emerged from one of the houses and smiled. He was six years older than Ricky and also quite handsome, dressed in linen pants and a shirt, his face shaded by a straw hat. While Ricky had learned English from tutors, Pedro, content to remain on the island and take on a traditional Cuban life, had only a rudimentary grasp of the language. For his nephew, he spoke a strange combination of both Spanish and English. "Mira, it is my sobrino! Do they not have pollitos en New York?" He laughed heartily._

 _He waved Ricky and little Ricky into the house. "Ven, ven…"_

 _Little Ricky trotted into the house after his uncle with Ricky following close behind. Pedro called to the little boy. "Enrique pequeno, I want that you see tus primos!" He leaned close to an open window and called the names of five boys very quickly._

 _As the older, dark-haired boys started walking toward the house at the call of their father, a woman's voice came from a nearby room. "Pedro, quienes son estos hombres guapos?" The words dripped off her tongue with the thickness of honey and although she addressed both visitors, her eyes were focused squarely on the elder Ricky as one side of her thin dress hung off her shoulder. She definitely was not his sister-in-law and little Ricky picked up on it right away, having remembered that he had met his aunt the night before._

 _Pedro's sons came into the room as he carried on as though the strange woman was not there. "Sobrino, this is tus primos, Miguel, Arnaldo, Osvaldo, Hector y Virgilio."_

 _Little Ricky looked up at his uncle as Ricky tried to ignore the presence of Pedro's apparent mistress. "Uncle Pedro, who's THAT lady?"_

 _Pedro's sons looked over at her and laughed among themselves, unaffected by the woman who was not their mother._

 _Ricky put a hand on his son's shoulder. "She's just visiting, amigo…"_

 _Pedro let out another loud laugh and knelt in front of his nephew. "Sobrino, tu padre means to tell that she is la mujer que I play with when tu tia visit her mother."_

 _Little Ricky tilted his head, not understanding._

 _Ricky's eyes flashed, pulling his son away from Pedro. "No digas esas cosas a mi hijo!"_

 _Pedro stood to look at his brother. "Lo siento! Tal vez necesita la cogida mas que yo, hermano!"_

 _A look of disgust crossed Ricky's face and he took his son's hand, taking him out of the house as Pedro laughed and his mistress lit a cigarette. Unfazed, the young boys had gone back to their outdoor game._

 _Little Ricky was quiet at first, gripping Ricky's hand as they walked briskly back down the dirt road. Ricky looked back out over the tobacco fields with a new perspective now. He wanted his son to remember the warmth of the tropical air, the bright sunshine and the colorful music. But that…Ricky wanted that to stay in Cuba where he'd left it._

 _His furrowed brow softened with the little boy's voice broke the silence of their walk. "Daddy? I don't understand who that lady is."_

 _Ricky stopped walking and looked down at his son. He was so impressionable and innocent. Ricky knelt down in front of him and put a hand on his arm. "Ricky, listen to me. When you're older, you'll understand why men and women go together and you'll want to be around girls." He paused and shook his head; he should've known that he needed to tell his brother to keep his mistress out of sight for a little while. "We'll talk about that in a few years. But for now, I want you to know that you're to treat girls with respect. You never hit girls and you dun't treat them like toys. Do you understand?"_

 _Little Ricky nodded, absorbing his father's words._

" _Good," Ricky continued. "When you're a man, you're gonna meet one girl that you love very much and you're gonna wanna marry her."_

 _Little Ricky shuffled his feet in the dirt. "Like you married Mommy?"_

 _Ricky nodded, grateful that his son was taking hold of what he was saying. "Yes, exactly like I married Mommy. And when you marry that girl, you have to love her and protect her and be faithful to her. Because she'll be your wife and maybe the mommy of YOUR babies."_

 _Little Ricky's eyes widened. "I don't have any babies, Daddy, that's silly!"_

 _Ricky laughed and smoothed a hand over the boy's hair. "It's silly right now. That's a talk we'll have later. For now, just promise me you'll always remember what I'm tellin' you right now."_

 _Little Ricky smiled at his father. It was important to the young boy that his father be proud of him. "Yes, Daddy, I promise."_

Ricky grinned. "Repay me? Just keep bein' a good man. Love her, be a good husband and make a family."

Rick nodded as he gently closed the box. "Thanks, Dad. I will."


End file.
